


Pumpkins and Mice and Ashes

by nagi_schwarz



Series: Traveling Man [45]
Category: Stargate Atlantis
Genre: F/M, Genderswap, Implied/referenced attempted non-con, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-07-13
Updated: 2018-07-13
Packaged: 2019-06-09 21:56:27
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 8,917
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15277002
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/nagi_schwarz/pseuds/nagi_schwarz
Summary: Written for the bad day comment fic prompt: “Stargate Atlantis, John Sheppard +/ Evan Lorne, ‘Bad day, sir?’”John’s having a bad day. Teyla cracked him on the head during sparring practice. Evan got turned into a woman. His day is probably worse.





	Pumpkins and Mice and Ashes

**Author's Note:**

  * For [SherlockianSyndromes](https://archiveofourown.org/users/SherlockianSyndromes/gifts).



> Thanks to the stellar Brumeier for her speedy beta assistance!

John followed Ronon into the infirmary, feeling incredibly embarrassed and sheepish after sparring gone wrong. He had one of Ronon’s t-shirts pressed to his scalp, because head wounds bled profusely even if they were minor.

“Colonel?” Carson asked, turning to him.

“I’m fine,” John insisted.

But Ronon towed him over to the empty bed and pushed him at it.

John sat down with a sigh.

“Bad day, sir?”

John turned to look at the woman on the bed beside him. She was wearing a hospital gown and looked fairly healthy, but she had all kinds of monitors hooked up to her. The nice thing about Atlantis’s uniform scheme was that John could immediately tell what department someone belonged to by looking at them. He didn’t recognize her at all, and he was pretty sure he’d remember someone with her blue eyes and high cheekbones, golden skin and soft pink mouth. Judging by how she’d called him  _ sir, _ she was military personnel, but -

John didn’t know her.

Maybe he did? Something about her was familiar.

“Not as bad as your day is going, Major,” Carson said firmly, checking something on the woman’s chart. “Be right with you, Colonel.”

“I’m fine,” John said again. 

Marie bustled over to him, frowned when she caught a whiff of Ronon’s dirty t-shirt. “I’ve got this, Doctor. You stay with Major Lorne.”

_ “Lorne?” _ John echoed, staring at the pretty woman beside him.

He could see it now, in the shape of her nose and her dimples and the way she raised an eyebrow at him.

“You  _ are _ having a bad day.”

“You saying being a woman is bad?” Lorne asked.

John started to speak, then remembered Marie was standing over him and Teyla was the one who’d sent him to the infirmary in the first place. “Well, no, but as someone who’s gone through involuntary body changes, I can sympathize. Not being yourself is - rough. What happened?”

“Ancient device offworld. Captain Yuy accidentally set it off. Zapped me and I am...this.” Lorne shrugged.

John was unsettled by how pretty a woman Lorne was. Carson seemed unbothered, but Carson was a consummate professional.

“Well, I hope it wears off soon,” John said.

“Me, too. I’m happy as a man.” Lorne looked down at himself ruefully.

“Is someone looking at the device?”

“A team of non-Gene carriers is at it as we speak. Colonel Carter got right on it,” Lorne said.

“Well, Major, by all appearances you’re a perfectly healthy adult female,” Carson said. “I’m standing you down from gate travel while we monitor you a bit more. Notify me the moment anything changes.”

“What, like cramps?” Lorne drawled.

And Carson finally looked alarmed. “Er, I could draw some blood, see what your hormone levels are like, if that might be an imminent issue -”

“I’m kidding, Doc. I’ll get changed and get out of your hair. Good luck, Colonel.” Lorne scooped a pile of clothes off of a nearby chair and tugged the privacy curtain closed.

Carson stepped over to John. “What happened?”

“Bantos training with Teyla. Someone startled her and she miscalculated her shot and beaned me pretty good. I really am fine. Sure, it hurts, but I didn’t feel dizzy or lose consciousness.”

“He got dizzy,” Ronon said.

John rolled his eyes. “Yeah, the shot threw me for a second, but I am fine.”

“I’ll let Marie finish closing you up, and then we’ll scan you, just to be safe,” Carson said. “Atlantis can’t afford to have her commander and his 2IC down at the same time.”

The privacy curtain twitched aside, and there was Lorne, dressed like any other female military personnel. He’d lost a few inches of height in the change, and he was definitely curvier. Much curvier. The hospital gown had concealed a lot.

John dragged his gaze upward. “Sorry, Major.”

“Sports bras make them perkier than they are, sir,” Lorne drawled. “And I’m not down. I’ll be in the office writing my AAR. Thanks Carson, Marie.”

And he strode out of the infirmary, head held high.

“She’s kinda hot,” Ronon said.

John slapped him on the arm. “That’s Major Lorne. He’s not really a she.”

“Physiologically -” Carson began.

“Don’t give him a hard time,” John said. He caught the gazes of the infirmary SFs. “Any of you.”

They nodded obediently. But John saw the speculative expressions on their faces, and worry twisted low in his gut.

*

The SGC had downright some of the worst traditions, superstitions, and myths. Getting thrown into an alien jail offworld? That was a rite of passage. After a team got rescued or made a successful escape, there was cake and party poppers in one of the rec rooms. Letting a Marine fly the maiden voyage in an alien craft was dooming the flight, because Marines were swimmers, not flyers. A Marine could take second seat on a maiden voyage, but not first. 

And if someone got genderswapped, the only way to change back was to get their cherry popped in their new body.

As John hadn’t served at the SGC proper, he wasn’t steeped in its wide and weird and varied traditions, learned them in bits and pieces as they became relevant to real life.

And that last myth was on everyone’s mind after what had happened to Major Lorne. Everywhere John went, people were talking about it.

Cadman and Kusanagi were having lunch together in the mess hall and discussing the issue.

“I don’t see how that works,” Cadman said. “Virginity’s not a physical thing. Plenty of women don’t have intact hymens long before they have sex for the first time. Injury. Horseback riding. Straight up physiology from birth.”

Kusanagi nodded her agreement. “Also, the concept of virginity is a cultural thing. Major Lorne is still Major Lorne, so he is still  _ he _ whatever his body. Must his body be penetrated by another man for it to count as loss of virginity? What if he had sex with another woman? I do not believe there is a physiological difference between a self-induced orgasm versus one as the result of a partner’s efforts. Could he not simply masturbate and be cured?”

John, at the table beside theirs, nearly swallowed his own tongue.

“That would be way easier,” Cadman said. “I feel so bad for him. Practically every Marine on base is panting after him, hoping they get chosen to ‘help’ with the cure.”

“Of course, even if there is no physiological difference between virginity and not, between masturbation and sex as far as orgasms go, he was changed by an Ancient device, and those do have a mental control component, so maybe the change is triggered not by physiology but by psychology, as it were. If Lorne believes he has lost his virginity, he will change back,” Kusanagi said.

Cadman hummed thoughtfully. “Good point. Of course, who  _ can _ he sleep with? As you pointed out, he’s still  _ him _ inside. He can’t sleep with another guy. That’d violate regs left and right. But right now he’s in a woman’s body, and some dumbass from Big Air Force wouldn’t understand how weird everything Stargate is, so if slept with another woman, that would also be a regs violation. And of course he really can’t sleep with anyone lower-ranked than him, or really anyone in the chain of command, which leaves civilians.”

“Ronon, for a man. Teyla, for a woman,” Kusanagi said. “Perhaps both? In case his mentally being a man means that he must lose his new virginity to a woman.”

Cadman shook her head. “I wouldn’t want to be him right now. He must be having the worst day ever.”

“The worst day ever would be getting cramps and his period,” Kusanagi said, and then made a face. “I can’t believe I just said that.”

“Well, while he’s kind of on Team Double X, we’ve got his back,” Cadman said decisively.

Kusanagi nodded her agreement, and then their conversation shifted to the question of the improvised explosives Cadman was working on.

John finished his lunch, returned his tray, and then beat a hasty retreat to his office. He was halfway there when a call came over the radio. Lieutenant Crown. She sounded scared.

“Sir, we need you in the residential atrium ASAP!”

“Roger that.” John jabbed the transporter control panel, felt adrenaline start to build in him. The doors slid open, and he ran.

When he got there, it looked like a riot was about to break out. A group of Marines and airmen were on one side; Lorne, Vega, Teyla, and Carter on the other; and Crown in the middle, arms outstretched like a teacher forestalling a school yard brawl.

“What the hell is going on here?” John demanded.

“I have things under control, Colonel,” Carter said. “Lieutenant Crown was understandably nervous, but it’s really a no-brainer: making unwanted sexual advances to another member of the Expedition is strictly against policies and possibly against the laws of several nations.”

John’s blood ran cold. He turned to Lorne, but he didn’t look injured, though his face was very pale and his hair - which was long and dark and thick - was a little mussed.

The Marines and airmen rolled their eyes in disbelief, like sullen teenagers.

“Furthermore,” Carter continued, voice sharp, “assaulting a superior officer is in direct violation of the UCMJ.”

“But she’s not -” one of the Marines began.

“Not what?” Carter demanded. “Not a major?”

“Not while she’s -”

“So if I woke up tomorrow in a man’s body would I no longer be Colonel Carter?”

“No, but -”

“But  _ what?” _ Carter snapped. “Major Lorne gets turned into a woman for a day and you all lose your minds? You’re a disgrace to your uniforms and a disgrace to both branches of service.”

John tapped his radio. “Ronon, Major Toriel, please join me in the military residential atrium.”

“Roger that,” Ronon said.

John tapped his radio again. “Sergeant Reis, ready the brig. You’ve got incoming. A lot of incoming.”

“Yes, sir.”

“Anything further, ma’am?” John asked.

Ronon, Toriel, and a security team arrived in the atrium.

“What do you need?” Ronon had a hand on the grip of his pistol.

Carter nodded at the group of Marines and airmen who’d gone still, pale, shock settling in as they realized what they’d done. “Arrest them all. Sergeant Reis should have cells ready in the brig. The  _ Daedalus _ will be here in a couple of days.”

Toriel looked surprised, but Ronon nodded, plucked the nearest man out of the group and handed him off to a couple of Toriel’s SFs.

To John, Carter said, “That will be all, Colonel.”

John turned to Lorne. “Major -”

“I’m fine, sir.” Lorne was twisting his hair, coiling it into a knot at the nape of his neck so it’d be regulation, just like all the other women who kept their hair longer.

John couldn’t read the expression in Lorne’s eyes, so he nodded at Carter and then turned away, headed for the transporter. He veered away from it at the last second, because he didn’t want to be in an enclosed space with any of those airmen or Marines, and a good long walk would clear his head.

He retreated to his office and stayed there for the rest of the day.

*

John realized his shift was over when his stomach rumbled. It was dinner time. He stood, pulled on his jacket, and then he realized he didn’t want to actually go to the mess hall and deal with people. He didn’t take advantage of the option often, but he was going to eat in his quarters.

He tapped his radio, asked Control for the Marine in charge of the KP that shift. Amelia put him through to Sergeant Coughlin, and John asked for a tray to me brought to his quarters. He headed for the transporter as he placed his order: shepherd’s pie, green beans, rice krispie treats for dessert.

He made it back to his quarters and changed out of his uniform, was glad to be barefoot and comfortable. He set his radio on his nightstand, turned on his emergency radio, and sprawled out on his bed. What did he want to do with his evening? He could watch a movie, listen to some music, read, play his guitar.

Guitar. That was the best option. He’d been meaning to learn a new song anyway. John get his guitar out of its case and sat on the edge of his bed, tuning it.

He was working on the riff for Seven Bridges when his door chimed.

“Come in!”

The door opened, and a female soldier John didn’t recognize stepped into his quarters, bearing a tray of food.

“Where would you like this, sir?”

“The desk is fine, thanks,” John said, distracted, and then he realized.

The woman was Lorne.

Lorne set the tray down, but he didn’t leave.

John looked up. “Something I can do for you, Major?”

“Sir,” Lorne said, “it’s true.”

John frowned. “What’s true?”

“What everyone’s been saying, about how to reverse the transformation.”

John set his guitar aside, looked up at Lorne. “Major, I know I didn’t serve at the SGC, but -”

“But Radek and Ambrose are done looking at the machine. Turns out this one had a user manual. And in the instructions, it clearly stated what I have to do to turn back.” 

“I don’t understand, Major. Are you saying you  _ wanted  _ to…? With those Marines?”

Lorne shook his head. “No, sir. Not one of them.”

“Then with who? I mean - that’s none of my business -” John cut himself off. Because Lorne had delivered John’s dinner when any lowly airman or Marine could have done it. Lorne was standing in John’s quarters and looking at him intently, his expression otherwise blank. 

John swallowed hard. “Why me?”

“Because, sir, I trust you.”

And what could John say to that? He’d seen for himself how precarious Lorne’s position was. He’d also seen how beautiful a woman Lorne was right now.

“Will you help me? Sir?”

“If we’re going to do this, you should call me John. Have you eaten?”

“Ah, no, sir. John.” Lorne ducked his head, blushing. He’d been expecting rejection.

John couldn’t imagine that many straight men would have turned Lorne down unless they were already in committed relationships or super religious.

“Well, then, let’s eat. We can share.”

Lorne nodded. “All right.”

John fetched the tray, sat down on the bright Athosian rug Teyla had given to him for his birthday last year. Lorne sat down beside him, hesitant.

“Really. Eat,” John said.

Lorne picked up the spoon, letting John have the knife and fork. 

“What if I wanted the spoon?”

“Hm?” Lorne swallowed his first mouthful of food hurriedly. “I just - you eat continental, so I figured -”

“Relax, Major. I’m just messing with you.” John knew that if his partner was tense, sex would be unpleasant.

“You can call me Evan.”

John nudged him. “Evan. John. Really the same name, in different languages.”

Evan nodded. “Yeah. My father was Alexander Evan, so - I’m Evan Alexander.”

“My father is Patrick Ryan, so I’m John Patrick.”

“That’s very - Irish.”

“Yes it is.” John chuckled. “So - Lorne. That’s - Welsh?”

“Scottish, actually. Evan is Welsh, but Lorne is Scottish.”

John nodded. “They’ve theorized that it’s a thing. The Gene. Being regional. You, me, Beckett, O’Neill, the therapy taking for Rodney. Kusanagi and Yuy.”

“I hadn’t heard that,” Evan admitted.

He still looked terribly nervous, and John wanted to ask what his experience had been like previously, with other men - and then he realized he couldn’t ask that, and on the slim chance Lorne did have sexual experience with other men, it wasn’t anything like what he’d experience in his current form.

“So - dinner tonight is pretty good,” John said.

Evan smiled. “Shepherd’s pie. My Nan’s recipe. She taught me everything I know about cooking. I mean - obviously my mom helped growing up, but she learned from Nan too, so -”

John couldn’t remember the last time he’d been so awkward around another adult who he knew as well as he knew Evan. Then a thought struck him. “How do you know I eat continental?”

Evan looked at John’s hands, where he was holding his knife and fork, then up at John. “Because we’ve been eating in the same mess hall for three years now?”

“I never realized you eat, you know, American,” John said.

“Different people notice different things. What kind of sidearm do I carry?”

“An M1911 .45,” John said.

Evan smiled. “See? You didn’t even have to think about it.”

As bizarre as this conversation was, Evan definitely seemed calmer, so John figured he’d run with it. “What other things do you notice about people?”

“Rodney’s favorite dessert is brownies,” Evan said.

John shrugged. “Everyone knows that.”

“But he really likes the ones with the blueberries and chocolate chunks.”

“Really?” John thought about it. Rodney just generally enjoyed food. “When have we had brownies like that?”

Evan smirked. “Why do you think you never get a piece?”

“Really? That greedy little -”

“Next time I’ll save you a piece,” Evan said.

“Thanks.” John eyed him. “You started off flying cargo, right?”

“Yes I did. How did you know?” Evan was eating far less than half of the meal. 

John knew women as a general rule had lower maintenance calories than men, but surely Evan would go hungry. “I’ve watched your pre-flight checks. You’re used to a C-130.”

Evan smiled. “Impressive.”

“I’m sure other pilots would have noticed it.”

“I never noticed it about you,” Evan admitted.

It was going good till they finished the food and ran out of things to say. Evan’s posture went tense, closed off.

“Um...how should we do this?”

He looked terrified.

John said, “We don’t have to do this tonight if you don’t -”

“I do,” Evan said firmly, and how had John forgotten?

This wasn’t just about sex. This was about Evan getting his own body back.

“If you’re nervous, we can wait,” John offered, because he wasn’t going to proceed if Evan was unwilling. 

Just because he needed to do this didn’t mean he wanted it.

Evan frowned.

“Tell you what,” John said. “Why don’t you take the tray back to the kitchen, grab some clean clothes to change into. I’ll clean up, and when you get back, you can have a nice bubble bath.”

Evan’s eyebrows went up. “Bubbles, sir? I mean, John.”

John shrugged. “Sometimes the scent of lavender helps me fall asleep.”

Evan nodded understandingly. “All right.” He pushed himself to his feet, gathered up the tray. “Back in a bit.”

Both of them understood that Evan didn’t have to come back at all.

John smiled. “If I don’t answer the door, come right in. Sometimes I can’t hear the door when I’m in the bathroom.”

“All right. See you.” Evan ducked out of John’s quarters.

John watched the door slide closed and took a deep breath. Was he really going to do this? With his subordinate? His  _ male _ subordinate?

He turned, headed for the bathroom, peeling off his clothes as he went.

Yes he was.

*

John was pretty sure the last time he’d had a premeditated hook-up with a woman it had been before he’d shipped out to Atlantis, knowing that he was facing a one-way journey and none of the expedition members he’d met up to that point seemed even remotely tempting (Rodney was hot but clearly high-strung and now he was just a friend). Even so, he still remembered the routine. 

He showered, washed himself thoroughly. Then he shaved and he trimmed his nails. He decided against cologne, because despite how hot Evan was, he wasn’t actually a woman, and while John didn’t mind cologne on other men - he wanted to keep this as low-key and easy-going as possible. Cologne just seemed a bit much for the occasion. He did brush his teeth, because that was only polite.

He’d pulled on boxers and a pair of comfy sweats when he heard his door chime.

He went to answer it, still toweling his hair. It slid open with the barest mental nudge.

Evan stood on the other side, clutching his laptop to his chest. His other clothes were behind it, John realized. He was being discrete.

“Hey, Major, c’mon in. Just got out of the shower,” John said, in case anyone in the hall might overhear them.

Evan stepped inside, wide-eyed. As soon as the door slid shut, John let the towel hang around his neck.

“So, you ready?”

“I think so,” Evan said.

“Let me clean out the tub so you can use it, and then the bathroom is all yours.” John smiled.

Evan cleared his throat. “Thanks.” He set his laptop down on John’s desk, then perched tentatively on the edge of John’s bed.

John left the bathroom door open while he gave the tub a quick scrub. Then he found the plug and the bottle of lavender bubble bath. He didn’t use it often, but when he did, he took his time, was self-indulgent.

“I didn’t know you play the guitar,” Evan called through the doorway.

“Yeah,” John called back. “My mother played piano, but a guitar was easier to carry around. She taught me how to read music. I can carry a tune, but my voice isn’t great.”

“That’s cool,” Evan said. “My family is entirely non-musical. It’s embarrassing, really.”

John finished scrubbing the tub. He tossed his used towel into the laundry hamper, then laid out a clean towel for Evan.

“All right. Bathroom’s all yours,” he said.

Evan was still perched on the end of John’s bed, wide-eyed. Even though John knew Evan was a seasoned Air Force officer, had seen a lot of crazy in his time at the SGC and even with Big Air Force, the wide-eyed, pretty-faced woman gazing up at him looked innocent and sweet.

John had never found the whole deflowering a virgin thing a turn-on, because he preferred his partners experienced, but something stupid and caveman in him liked the notion of being Evan’s first, of being able to guide him and protect him during this experience.

Evan, clutching a pile of clothes to his chest, stood up, scooted around John, and scurried into the bathroom and closed the door.

John heard the water start, and he scooped up his guitar, set about working on his song some more. Maybe this was Evan’s first time, but John was nervous too. Because it had been a pathetically long time since he’d been with a woman he knew well, and this was a one-night stand in the purest sense, because the event could never be recreated, but John would see Evan the next day, and the day after that, and every day after that till one of them died or retired.

Evan was a fine officer, a skilled airman. John respected him, he really did.

The bathroom door opened.

John looked up.

“Don’t - don’t look,” Evan said, voice slightly muffled.

John immediately focused on his hands.

He heard the door open wider, the soft pitter-patter of footsteps across the bathroom floor, a tiny splash, and then Evan said,

“It’s okay, you can look now.”

John lifted his head. All he could see of Evan was his head and shoulders and arms and the very tops of his knees. The rest of him was covered in big, frothy bubbles.

Evan smiled at him tentatively. “I figure this way we can, you know, talk.”

John nodded. “Yeah.” His voice came out tight. He winced and cleared his throat. “Good idea.”

“So, what kind of music do you play?” Evan had his hair tied up on his head in a messy knot, dark strands falling into his face. He was using a big fluffy fake loofah to scrub himself.

“Johnny Cash is my favorite,” John said. “But classic rock, mostly.”

“I saw your poster.” Evan was very deliberate, scrubbing between his fingers and even his delicate little toes. His skin was golden-pale and gleaming wet, dotted by bubbles here and there. “What’s your favorite song to play?”

John played the opening riff to Pink Floyd’s Wish You Were Here.

Evan smiled. “Good song. The Wall is one of my favorite albums.” He hummed along tunelessly.

Why was this more comfortable than eating dinner had been? Probably because they weren’t focused on each other. In fact, Evan was focused on shaving, well, everything. His legs. His armpits. He even leaned back and frowned and dipped the razor beneath the bubbles to shave between his legs.

John started to say,  _ You don’t have to,  _ but if that was what Evan wanted, he wasn’t going to object.

He wondered how Evan knew how to shave everything? Except of course Evan had seen other women, so obviously he knew what to shave, and it wasn’t like he didn’t shave his own face every morning, which John was pretty sure was harder than shaving legs.

John kept playing songs - Boston’s More Than a Feeling, Zep’s Stairway to Heaven, Bon Jovi’s Wanted Dead or Alive - and Evan kept humming along. Once he was done scrubbing, he lay back in the water and closed his eyes.

Was he meditating or relaxing? Or had he fallen asleep?

John admired the line of his throat, the delicateness of his collarbones.

Halfway through Dead or Alive, Evan opened his eyes, straightened up.

“Look away, will you?”

John obeyed, focusing on his hands. He heard the swish of water as Evan climbed out of the bath, then the gurgling sound of the drain. He listened as Evan brushed his teeth.

When Evan finally said, “You can look now,” John was done with his song.

Evan stood in the doorway wearing a USAF t-shirt and a pair of boxer briefs. The ends of his hair were damp and curling, and his shoulders were tight, but he was standing tall, not fidgeting.

He was beautiful.

He was also very obviously not wearing a bra beneath his t-shirt. 

John smiled. He set his guitar aside and patted the space beside him. “Come sit.”

Evan hesitated, then crossed the room, sat down beside him, close but not touching. John turned to him, but he avoided John’s gaze, a blush creeping up his cheeks.

“Hey,” John said softly, “you’re in the driver’s seat here. Anything you want, just tell me.”

“I don’t know what I want.” Evan sighed, tugged on the hem of his t-shirt. “I don’t really know how this body works. I just -”

“Do you like kissing?” John asked. He’d been told by more than one previous lover that he was a pretty good kisser. “Or do you not allow kissing while you’re -”

Evan scowled. “I’m not a hooker.”

John threw his hands up in surrender. “I’m sorry. I just - usually it’s not like this.”

Evan eyed him. “What’s it usually like for you?”

“You know, dinner and a movie.”

“We had dinner,” Evan pointed out. “Do you want to put on a movie?”

John did have some DVDs he’d traded for - from Evan, come to think of it. Which probably meant Evan had seen them all. “We could, but - usually the girl I’m out with is actually interested in  _ me _ and isn’t my male 2IC accidentally whammied into a woman’s body and looking to get back to his own body.”

“Well,” Evan said, “pretend I’m a girl who’s interested in you.”

John stared at him. “How?”

Evan rolled his eyes. “You need me to stroke your ego a bit?” He made his voice breathy and higher-pitched. “Oh, John, you’re so handsome and smart.”

It was John’s turn to roll his eyes. He swatted Evan lightly on the shoulder. “Very funny.”

Evan leaned in and cooed, “It’s so impressive when you solve partial differential equations right off the top of your head.” He even batted his eyelashes.

“You are worse than Rodney,” John said.

Evan pouted his lips and batted his eyelashes again. “I’m way cuter than Rodney.”

John laughed. “That you are.”

Evan framed his face with his hands and batted his eyelashes some more. “See? I’m totally interested in you and your super brilliant mind and your strong hands and your manly impressive forearms -”

John laughed again. “Forearms? That’s the best you can come up with?”

Evan heaved a put-upon sigh, looked John up and down, and John remembered he was shirtless. “Fine. You have a nice chest.”

John nudged him. “So do you.”

Evan peeked down the front of his t-shirt. “They are pretty big, aren’t they? I’m pretty sure my upper back and shoulders hurt way worse than normal because of these things.”

John couldn’t help but laugh. He’d always known Evan was sarcastic, but this was a whole new side of him. Was he always this quippy, or was it because he looked like a woman, could take more liberties with his behavior?

Evan punched him on the arm. “It’s not funny. Really. My back hurts.”

“Then I’ll be sure to be gentle,” John said.

Evan sobered. He curled his hand at the collar of his t-shirt, color high on his cheeks.

John studied him. His blue eyes were exactly the same. Longer-lashed, wider, but the color, the light in them - that was the Evan Lorne who John had always known.

“How did you know I can solve partial differential equations off the top of my head?”

“I was playing light switch in the lab one day while you were there arguing with Rodney,” Evan said. “It took him a moment to realize what you’d done. It was really impressive.”

“Thanks,” John said.

Evan said, “You really do have beautiful eyes.”

“Yeah?”

“I’m an artist. I notice these things.”

“I’m not an artist, but I have also noticed your eyes,” John said. “And they’re beautiful too.”

“Thanks,” Evan said faintly.

John kissed him. 

It was soft, chaste, just a gentle press of lips. But then Evan kissed him back, his mouth soft and warm. John kissed him again, reached out, settled his hands lightly on Evan’s shoulders.

Evan turned to him fully, parted his lips to take in a breath.

John parted his lips for a taste, and Evan gasped softly.

John slid his hands down Evan’s arms, cupping his elbows, feeling his soft, warm, smooth skin.

Evan made a small sound, and John drew back, alarmed, but Evan’s eyes were still squeezed tightly shut and he curved a hand around the nape of John’s neck, pulled him back in, so John closed his eyes and let himself be kissed.

They kissed seemingly forever. Evan’s hands were everywhere, petting John’s hair, on his arms, his shoulders, his waist, little fleeting, tentative, curious touches that made John’s pulse speed up. He did his best to be gentle and polite, smoothing one hand up and down Evan’s back, feeling the line of his spine beneath the soft, worn fabric of his t-shirt, his other hand on Evan’s arm.

Evan pressed in closer, deepening the kiss, and John’s pulse spiked at the warm swell of Evan’s breasts against his chest.

Evan’s hair was silky-soft, and John had to apologize when he tangled his fingers in it.

Evan pulled back to help him untangle, scowling. “I should cut it all off. Do you have scissors?”

John silenced him with a kiss, skating his fingertips up Evan’s ribs. He brushed his thumbs over the sides of Evan’s breasts, and Evan whimpered into his mouth.

“May I?” John asked between kisses.

Evan nodded.

John cupped his hands over Evan’s breasts carefully, enjoying the weight and warmth of them. Evan arched into his touch, and John dipped his head, nibbling down the line of Evan’s throat while Evan adjusted to the warmth of his hands. John brushed his thumbs over Evan’s nipples through the fabric of the t-shirt, and Evan made a sharp sound of pleasure.

“You like that?” John asked.

Evan nodded frantically.

John pressed a kiss to his mouth. “Easy. We’ve got all night.” He went back to nibbling on Evan’s throat, tasting his skin, enjoying the way Evan gasped and squirmed with each gentle nip. 

John tugged aside Evan’s collar and nibbled along his collarbone, and Evan squirmed helplessly, giggling and moaning.

Then John dipped his head, sucked a nipple into his mouth, tongued it through the fabric.

Evan whined, high and needy, in the back of his throat.

John kept his hands firm on Evan’s waist and licked again.

Evan clutched John’s shoulder with one hand, petting his hair unsteadily with the other. “I - more - please -”

John bit down gently on Evan’s nipple before he moved to the other one, giving it the same treatment, licking and sucking through the soft, worn cotton.

“You like that?” John asked.

Evan nodded. 

“Think you can handle more?”

Evan nodded again. His eyes were dark with lust, his lips red with arousal, and John surged upward, kissed him again, deep and sensual while he worked his hands up under Evan’s t-shirt.

When his palm brushed over one stiff nipple, Evan cried out.

John used his thumb the second time, and Evan was arching into his touch, head thrown back. His neck looked so inviting, so John leaned in for another taste, working Evan’s other breast with his other hand, stroking and pinching and rolling and rubbing till Evan shook apart in his arms.

John was incredibly turned on by this point, hard enough to cut glass, but he held Evan as he came down from the orgasm. He helped wrangle Evan out of his damp t-shirt, and then Evan flopped back on the bed, panting.

John slid off the edge of the bed and knelt between Evan’s legs. He pressed a kiss to the inside of Evan’s knee.

“You know you can have multiple orgasms in a short time, right?”

Evan lifted his head a fraction. “I’d heard, but -”

He flopped back again, flushed from throat to chest, his heavy, lush breasts heaving with each breath.

John reached up, tugged gently on the hem of Evan’s boxer briefs. “I can take you over the top again.”

“Really? Because that was - I don’t think I’ve ever come that hard before just from someone playing with my nipples,” Evan said, still panting. “I don’t think I can -”

John nosed at the damp cotton between Evan’s legs, and Evan arched up off the bed with a startled cry. 

“What -?”

John nipped at the soft skin on the inside of Evan’s thigh, grinning. “You want me to?”

Evan blinked wide eyes at him. “You mean -?”

John nodded.

“You’d be willing to -?”

John nodded again.

Evan was the one who reached for the hem of the boxer briefs and pushed them down. He arched up off the bed to get them down past his hips, and John’s pulse spiked again and the delicate flesh that was revealed. He helped Evan get the underwear off the rest of the way, tossed it aside, and then guided Evan’s legs up over his shoulders.

Evan was leaning up on his elbows, eyes wide, watching.

John cupped a hand over the soft mound of flesh, again letting Evan get used to his touch.

“May I?”

“Yes,” Evan said. “I don’t really know how it all works. I just -”

John turned his head, kissed the inside of Evan’s thigh.

Evan giggled. “Your hair is softer than it looks.”

John smiled, and then he stroked a finger down between the delicate fold of flesh. 

Evan gasped and instinctively tried to close his knees at the sudden sensation, and then he apologized. John distracted him with another kiss, stroking, carefully searching till he found -

Evan arched up the bed with a litany of curses in languages John was pretty sure he’d never heard.

“Do that again,” Evan begged.

John circled Evan’s clit with his fingertip.

Evan’s eyes fell shut, and he sank back, arching into John’s touch.

John kept playing with Evan’s clit, experimenting with direction and pressure, listening to his breathing and his little wordless sounds of pleasure, stroking his wet folds all the while, circling his entrance.

He eased the tip of his finger into Evan’s body, waited for Evan to adjust to the sensation.

“Oh, that - that’s kinda weird.”

Evan was tight, a little tense despite how wet he was from his previous orgasm.

John was wet and leaking in his shorts, but he could hold on, because tonight was about Evan. He leaned in, flicked his tongue over Evan’s clit.

Evan cried out, and John slid his finger in all the way. He started slowly, alternating licks and strokes, setting up a rhythm in tandem with Evan’s beautiful moans, speeding up and crooking his finger just a little bit until he found it, Evan’s sweet spot.

He knew he’d found it because Evan went rigid beneath him again, and more wetness slicked his hand. 

John didn’t stop, worked another finger inside of Evan, licking him more, and Evan was rocking his hips to meet each thrust of John’s fingers, and John couldn’t wait to really be inside of him, but he brought Evan over the top with a second finger, but not with the third.

He pulled out before Evan peaked, and Evan made a little angry mewl.

“I’ve got something better,” John said, and he managed to squirm out of his sweats and boxers. “If you want it.”

He stood up, let Evan have a good look at him.

Evan looked him up and down, hunger in his eyes.

Then he sat up, grabbed John’s hips, tugged John close - and closed his lips over the head of John’s cock.

John groaned, eyes falling shut. The sensation was amazing, hot went suction, a firm grip on his hips. He hoped there were bruises tomorrow. He reached out blindly for something to hold onto, and his fingers tangled in long soft hair.

His eyes flew open, and he remembered.

Evan had one hand curled around the shaft of his cock, was stroking up and down as he worked the head, lips and tongue and faintest hint of teeth that made John’s pulse stutter.

“Hey, Evan, wait, you have to stop, I’m not going to last -”

Evan pulled back and looked up at him. His lips were and full and wet-shiny from where they’d been wrapped around John’s cock, and his eyes were so dark with lust they were almost black.

Then he grinned, caught John’s forearm, twisted and pulled.

John landed on his back on the bed with a cry of surprise, but then Evan was climbing on top of him. He straddled John’s hips and pinned him down by the wrists, fierce and triumphant. John could feel how wet he was from his previous orgasms, and he moaned, thrusting his hips up, desperate for more friction.

“I dunno, John,” Evan drawled, grin wicked. “You’re pretty damn good with those fingers. Famed pilot dexterity, or years of playing guitar?” He reached back, grasped John’s cock, stroked it some more.

Sparks of pleasure danced through John’s limbs.

“You think this’ll be better?” Evan thumbed the sensitive spot beneath the head, and John bucked sharply.

John reached up with his free hand, stroked the hollow of Evan’s hip. “I know it will be.”

“Put your money where your mouth is,” Evan said, leaned in, and kissed him.

John groaned into the kiss, because Evan was still stroking his cock, playing with it, and then he shifted and -

There, yes, perfect hot-wet-tight. 

Evan pulled back from the kiss, sinking down fully on John’s cock, and for one moment, John was mesmerized by the beautiful woman astride him, her golden sweat-sheened skin, her bright eyes and soft red mouth, her thick dark hair tumbling around her shoulders, her glorious breasts, the curves of her body.

Evan’s hand on John’s wrist tightened. “Like what you see?”

John nodded.

Evan rocked his hips. “Like what you feel?”

John nodded again.

Evan leaned in so they were eye to eye. “Think you can make me come again.”

John grinned. “I know I can.” And he thrust.

Evan moaned, eyes falling shut. John planted his feet flat on the bed, changed the angle of his hips, searching for the right spot. He kept his thrusts long and slow and steady. He liked sex this way, because he could watch his partner’s climb. Evan moaned with each thrust, brow furrowing every time John bottomed out.

He had to keep it slow and steady or he’d come too fast, and he was a gentleman, and besides, Evan had to come first. The whole point of this was Evan.

Evan was so lost in their shared pleasure that his grip on John’s wrist loosened. John eased himself free, and then he propped himself up on his elbows, leaned in, and captured Evan’s nipple with his mouth. He cupped one hand around Evan’s breast, licking in time with his thrusts.

Evan went wild, rocking his hips harder and faster, and John grinned against Evan’s skin.

“John,” Evan whimpered. “I’m almost there. Please -”

John kept licking and thrusting, but he couldn’t hold that position long.

Besides, he wanted to see Evan’s face when he came.

He lay back, and Evan made a wordless sound of disappointment, but John got to watch Evan riding him for a few thrusts, the flex of his lovely thighs, the sway of his breasts. Then John reached out, grasped Evan’s hip with one hand, reached between his legs with the other.

Evan screamed when John stroked his clit. John stroked in time with his thrusts, watched Evan turn pink from his lovely throat to his pretty peaked nipples. Evan thrust faster, harder, and John strained to keep pace with him. Evan’s eyes were shut tightly, and he was clutching John’s sides so he could stay upright.

John slid his hand up from Evan’s waist, cupped his breast gently.

Evan made a pleading sound, and John swiped his thumb over Evan’s nipple.

Evan’s voice became more urgent, and John kept stroking and thrusting, playing Evan’s body like a delicate, perfect instrument.

Evan came hard, so hard he couldn’t even make a sound. John followed soon after, the flutter of delicate muscles around his cock too much to handle.

Evan sank onto him, trembling through the aftershocks. John wrapped his arms around Evan, cradled him against his chest.

“Hey,” he said softly. “I got you.”

He wriggled his hips a little, let his softening cock slide out of Evan’s body.

Evan shifted so he was on the bed, tucked himself against John’s side.

“That was - wow,” he said. “Thank you.”

John pressed a kiss to Evan’s hair. “No, thank you.”

They stayed curled around each other for a while, their heartbeats returning to normal. John wasn’t much of a cuddler when it came to one night stands, but Evan was warm and soft, and this was his first time, and as their sweat cooled, shivering set in.

John disentangled himself long enough to get them under the covers, and then they curled together once more.

“I know you don’t like being like this -”

“You have no idea.”

“- But you really are beautiful.”

Evan was quiet for a moment. Then he kissed John’s cheek and said, quietly, “Thanks.”

“Stay awhile?” John asked, feeling sleep steal over him.

“As long as I can.”

*

When John woke the next morning, he was alone. He sat up, puzzled and confused, because something wasn’t right. Had someone come into his room in the middle of the night?

No. Someone had left.

Evan was gone.

John cast about, but Evan’s clothes were gone. He padded into the bathroom and saw that Evan had tidied up, tossed John’s clothes into the laundry hamper.

There was no note.

Something tight and sharp lodged itself behind John’s breastbone. Of course. Last night had been about one thing and one thing only: Evan getting back to his normal self.

John hoped it had worked, for Evan’s sake.

He grabbed a washcloth and wiped off the stickiness so he wouldn’t smell like sex when he stepped out of his quarters, and then he pulled on running gear and went to meet Ronon. 

John’s day after that was routine. He had breakfast with his team, checked in with Carter, did some paperwork. He swung by the infirmary for a follow-up with Marie. He didn’t ask about Evan, and he didn’t hear any gossip about him. Had it not worked?

Only when he stopped by the lab to deliver Rodney’s mid-morning snack, because his hypoglycemia was no joke, Radek and Ambrose were at their usual work benches, plugging away at their current projects. Were they no longer helping with the Ancient device? Or had they learned all they needed to and assumed Evan would be cured?

John wanted to ask someone what had happened with Evan, if he’d turned back to normal, but if he asked, would everyone know? 

He’d wait till he saw Evan himself, talk to the man then, offer his congratulations.

John didn’t see Evan at all for three more days. The  _ Daedalus  _ arrived, and Evan should have been in the thick of things during unloading and resupplying, because he was Atlantis’s chief logistics officer, but when John and Ronon and Toriel’s team of SFs went to escort their prisoners to the ship to effectuate a prisoner transfer, Evan wasn’t there. He wasn’t in the office, the mess hall, the gym, or any of the common rooms his team frequented.

John was pretty sure Evan was avoiding him, because other people had talked to him, and judging by their comments Evan had indeed turned back to his usual self. 

It took John a couple of days to figure out why Evan avoiding him was bothering him so much, and he realized: it  _ hurt. _

Which was stupid and irrational, because John was pretty sure they’d gone days at a time without seeing each other, when one or the other was held captive offworld or those rotations when they worked different shifts so someone O4 or above was always in command no matter what.

John also realized that for the last three days, all of the meals in the mess hall were his favorites, which Evan must have arranged, because he was in charge of the KP Marines.

John’s suspicions were confirmed when, one night after dinner, Sergeant Coughlin smiled and handed him a brownie.

“Saved a piece for you, sir.”

It had blueberry and chunks of fudge, and it should have been delicious, but it was tasteless.

When John finally found Evan, he was on a balcony high up on the west side of the central tower. He was wearing jeans and a t-shirt, and John saw the hint of a tattoo peeking out from under his right sleeve.

Impossible. Evan’s body had been perfectly smooth, no ink, no scars -

But then that hadn’t been his real body, had it?

The man standing before him, broad-shouldered, with strong hands and firm thighs, he was the  _ real _ Evan. Sure, he had the same blue eyes and dimples as before. But he was no longer delicate and curvy.

He was just as beautiful, though.

He was painting, had an easel set up, an array of brushes, a cup of murky water.

Atlantis in the morning sunlight was beautiful.

John started to say  _ Evan, _ but that wasn’t right, was it? “Major.”

It came out sharper than he intended.

Evan glanced over his shoulder, eyebrows raised. “Bad day, sir?”

Today was obviously Evan’s designated Sunday.

John thought the balcony door locked before he spoke. “You were gone when I woke up.”

“Had to get back to my quarters and clean up before my day started,” Evan said. 

“But you were gone.”

Evan cast him another glance. “Didn’t think you’d want to wake up next to this.” He gestured to himself with his paintbrush, then kept on painting.

“Why not?”

“I’m not exactly beautiful like this,” Evan drawled.

“Who told you that?”

Evan rinsed off his paintbrush, tucked it behind his ear. He turned to face John. “Sir, I really appreciate that you helped me out. I do. You were the only person I could trust with that - with me in that state. But it’s done. I’m me again. You get to be you again. You are  _ sir, _ and I am  _ Lorne, _ and everything’s back to normal.”

And that was the crux of the problem, John realized. “What if I don’t want things to go back to normal? They can’t really go back to normal between us.”

Evan raised his eyebrows. “Sir, what happened between us can literally never happen again. Radek and Ambrose deactivated the machine, buried it in storage. I’m a man, and I’m staying that way.”

“I prefer you as a man,” John said, because that was the truth. Evan as a woman had been beautiful, but not really  _ Evan. _

Evan’s expression immediately went blank. “I don’t understand, sir.”

John’s previous statement could be interpreted several ways, one of which might be fatal to his career. 

Not that he’d ever cared about being a  _ career _ military officer. When he’d come to Atlantis, his career had been on its last legs, and as far as Big Air Force was concerned, it still was. John knew Elizabeth had had to fight to keep him multiple times.

John also knew that Evan knew things about him that most people didn’t. Sure, John had noticed details about Evan, too, but noticing what sidearm a fellow officer carried or how he did his preflight checks - that wasn’t the same as noticing how another man ate, or what all his favorite foods were.

Was Evan Lorne worth everything John was going to risk by what he said next?

John remembered how easy it had been to talk to Evan when it was just the two of them, how Evan always went the extra mile in completing his duties, in caring for his teammates and the people around him, even Rodney.

John remembered how much it had hurt, waking up alone, because he’d been given something he always wanted only to have it snatched away again.

He said, “When you thought I wouldn’t want to wake up next to you like this, you were wrong.”

And then terror flooded through him. What if he’d read Evan wrong? What if Evan was totally straight and he really had only come to John because John wasn’t a pig like some of the others were?

Only he remembered how good Evan had been at sucking his cock, how he hadn’t been at all hesitant when John was naked, and hadn’t Evan been himself, been  _ Evan _ inside that other body? His sexual orientation wouldn’t have changed, would it? Yes, it was mostly genetic, but it wasn’t tied to one’s biological sex, was it?

Evan’s expression was very wary. “Sir -”

“John. Please.” Right then he wished he wasn’t in his uniform, because DADT was stupid, but frat regs were there for a reason, one John respected - usually, when he was thinking with his head and not his heart.

His heart.

“John,” Evan said. “But you never - before -”

“Before I didn’t have a chance -”

“Neither did I.” Evan swallowed hard, looked away. “I - there’s something I have to tell you.”

“What?” John’s heart was pounding. This was it, the easy let-down, the  _ let’s just be friends _ or  _ you’re like a brother to me _ or something worse.

_ Sir. You’re my commanding officer. _

Evan’s voice shook. “I lied to you. I’m sorry.”

“What do you mean?”

“The whole  _ fuck-or-stuck _ thing is a lie. Sure, everyone jokes about it at the SGC, but - those machines are usually to teach a lesson or help with fertility issues or population decline or gender alignment,” Evan said. He was staring down at his hands. “If they’re for fertility or gender alignment, as long as the machine is functioning, one zap changes you, another zap changes you back. If the machine is a disciplinary thing - walk a mile in someone else’s shoes - it has a time limit.”

John stared at him. “What are you saying? You could have changed back any time? Just got Radek and Ambrose to zap you?”

Evan shook his head.

“Then you knew it would wear off.”

Evan nodded.

“Did you know when you came to my quarters?”

Evan bit his lip, nodded again.

“Then why -?”

“I figured it was my only chance. You know - Cinderella gets her night at the ball, and after midnight, it’s pumpkins and mice and ashes again.”

John should have been angry, because Evan had lied to him. “What if it wasn’t your only chance?”

Evan looked up at him, eyes wide.

“Like I said, I prefer you as as man, and I would have liked to wake up to you as you are.”

Evan sucked in a shaky breath. “Sir. John. I -”

“Evan.” John stepped closer to him. “We both lied to each other. You didn’t actually need my help, and I wasn’t helping you just out of the goodness of my heart. You weren’t the only one who thought it was your only chance. But we were both wrong. Do you want another chance? With me?”

Evan’s answer was a kiss.

After, John had to go back to his quarters to change his clothes, because in their enthusiasm they’d knocked over Evan’s easel and paint had gotten everywhere. John had helped him clean up, and then he had to get back to work.

“Bad day, sir?” Lieutenant Crown asked.

John smiled. “Actually, no.”


End file.
